Dangling by a Thread
by Bobbie23
Summary: Peter Parker has a problem only Mister Stark can fix.


Dangling by a Thread

"Mister Stark, Mister Stark!" Peter Parker calls as he jogs to catch up with Tony and Happy. He felt himself burning up as other eyes turned to look at him as he passes. He ducks his head and continues to chase the billionaire and Happy. He races through the corridor of the new Avengers facility, with the support agents stare at him as he tries not to make a fool of himself.

"Gonna have to be quicker than that kid," Tony calls over his shoulder as they finally stop for the elevator. Happy eyes him smugly as he pushes the call button.

Peter puts an exerted effort into the next twenty feet to reach them, pushing forward to catch the elevator with them. He manages it just in time, stopping beside them to catch his breath. He looks between them as they wait for him to tell them what was so important he ran them down. Yet he is rapidly losing his nerve because his request isn't really appropriate to ask either one of them, especially in a crowded lobby, but he can't solve it on his own.

No way.

"Um…" He's saved by the elevator pinging open. Tony immediately steps on followed by Happy and Peter clamours on behind and hits the close button before anyone else can board the elevator.

Tony raises his eyebrows at the impulsiveness and his nervous energy especially since Peter seems to have lost his voice again, stumbling over the words to describe the incident which has him so flustered. "Kid, you have twenty floors to say whatever it is you have to say."

"Um…" Peter starts again, scratching the back of his head and looking to the floor. "Well, I'm not exactly sure how to say this, but I have a problem."

"Yeah, not at all obvious," Tony deadpans.

Peter ignores him and starts to pace his portion of the elevator, which amounts to less than a square metre. "Well, you know when I'm out, in the suit," he starts before glancing at the mirrored walls and seeing the blush on his face. He looks away and ignores the amused glance the older men exchange. "And when I come home, I sometimes go over the rooftops because I don't want to change out of the suit," he pauses. Again. He scrubs a hand over his face. God, this was embarrassing.

"I hope you're keeping to Aunt May's curfew," Tony quips, and Happy chuckles. Peter groans.

"On school nights," he confirms. "But as you know, the Black Widow," his voice drops to a whisper. "Moved in a few blocks from Aunt May's apartment, and sometimes I-." His mouth stops working as he stares at the two men realising what he's about to put into words.

"You've been sneaking a peek at Natasha Romanoff!?" Tony asks with knowing-bordering on proud-smirk. "Do you have a death wish?"

"What? No!" Peter exclaims. "No, no, I would never," his face gave him away. It was one time, once. In his defence, it was just after she moved in and he didn't know till he saw her through the windows of her top floor apartment. She may be older and dangerous, but also hot and funny. After that first time, he steadfastly kept himself from peeking when he swung past her building to respect her privacy. Well, except now, he did it again last night by accident. And this is a bigger problem. "The problem is, well, since Doctor Banner came back and moved in with her…" He looks up imploringly hoping he doesn't have to finish that sentence.

Peter groans out of frustration and buries his head in his hands when the older men don't let him off the hook. He's seen far too much, more than he should; even though it would be deemed more intimate than explicit.

He paused to watch them doing the dishes, something so domestic and normal it was nice to see, when Doctor Banner splashed the former spy, covering her face with bubbles. Peter's heart stopped at her pause, her face frozen as Doctor Banner beamed adoringly at her, unconcerned by what Peter expected to turn into a blood bath. Instead her mouth twitched from a slack aw drop to a sly grin as her hand moved to launch a counter attack, covering the scientist in suds. He couldn't stop watching their carefree laughter as their play fight ensued, the dishes forgotten, until Doctor Banner pulled her willingly into his arms as her own encircled his neck as if it were commonplace, their kisses escalating quickly.

Peter had watched, unable to look away until they moved out of the kitchen while still entwined -all the while feeling like an intruder and a pervert- then he ran home only to remove his hood to find himself as red as his suit. His embarrassment only serving to highlight the age and maturity level between himself and the Avengers he strives to to be like.

"They left the blinds open," Tony crows with laughter.

Well, most of them are mature.

"They don't actually have any," Peter complains, slumping against the wall. Tony only laughs harder.

"Don't worry about Banner, he's used to public nudity. He's been naked in public almost as much as I have."

That's what makes the whole thing worse, with Doctor Banner being one of his idols. The Black Widow is too, of course, but his picture has been hanging alongside other renowned scientists in Peter's classroom at school for years. It's dual significance, with Doctor Banner's role on the Avengers, is not lost on Peter. He's met him a few times now and Peter's always found himself tongue-tied around him when he and Tony are working in the lab, bantering effortlessly back and forth. It's not nearly as bad as when they first met and Doctor Banner wanted to have a look at his web shooter after he bashed it during a recent outing, fixing it and improving on Tony's design in the process. Not that Peter would ever tell Tony that. Peter chances a look at Happy, who looks almost as red as Peter himself.

Tony sidles up beside him, an arm curling around Peter's shoulders. "I've got your back," he promises as he pulls out his interface. Peter squints at the screen and sees blueprints and dimensions. He frowns. "Happy, I'm sending you dimensions for Red's windows."

"No way in hell," the driver-slash-bodyguard replies. "That woman scares the crap out of me."

"Arachnophobia is always a side effect when the Black Widow puts you in a headlock with her ankles," Tony comments distractedly. "Your lucky it wasn't her thighs."

Peter looks at Happy to see him tug his collar in discomfort. "One time, that happened one time," he mutters. "I'm not going to be your messenger, she has a shoot to kill policy. And she's living with the Hulk. I'm not delivering blinds because the kid is catching a peep show."

"Wait, you're just buying them blinds?" Peter questions. "You're not going to talk to them for me?"

"Dear God, no, is that what you thought I meant?" Tony asks incredulously. "It'll be a housewarming gift from you," he goes on to explain as he scrolls through various designs.

"From me?" Peter's voice raises an octave. "Why me?"

"Because you can't keep your eyes to yourself," Tony says as he finishes his purchase. "And she's still pissed at me for letting you disable the training wheels programme in your suit."

"You didn't let me, I figured—" Peter starts to point out but Tony cuts him off.

"You don't think I was sent an alert from Karen when you did it? Yeah Kid, I know everything," Tony informs him. "The Black Widow also knows everything, by the way. Probably best to think of her as omnipresent, all knowing, all seeing." He grimaces. "She still thinks I jumped the gun when I recruited you, but she insisted your suit would be an all in one training model. She also said I'm solely responsible for you since I was my idea."

Peter has no chance to argue with any of that as the elevator comes to a stop, eight floors before their destination. The doors slide open to reveal the topic of their conversation. Or the scarier half.

"Speak her name three times and she shall appear," Tony monotones by way of greeting. Natasha rolls her eyes at him and steps onto the elevator without a glance at Peter or Happy. "Going up, Red?"

Peter swallows and presses himself up against the wall as much as he can to give her space. He learnt a while back it was easier for him to not talk in her presence, less chance of embarrassing himself in front of her. He doesn't want to seem like an immature little kid he's certain she sees him as. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Happy flattened against the wall, just like him. If he weren't so worried about bringing attention to himself, Peter would chance a comment on it as retaliation for all the months of the hazing Happy put him through. Instead Peter counts off the floors as they pass, six, five.

To Peters' surprise, Natasha settles against the wall next to Tony. After a few seconds of strained quiet, filled with the taps of Tony's fingers on the screen of his interface, Tony leans over to whisper in her ear. Peter feels the beads of sweat tickling the back of his neck as Natasha cocks an eyebrow, listening intently.

Three.

Tony finishes whispering.

Two.

Natasha fixes her stare on Peter, eyebrow still cocked.

One.

The doors ping open and Peter runs.


End file.
